


Over A Setting Sun

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Comrades in Arms, Friendship, Gen, Leadership, Teensy Bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much was left unspoken; but at that moment, all it took was a simple gesture. A simple gesture to bond the son of Poseidon and the son of Jupiter, over a setting sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over A Setting Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic I wrote last year as a goodbye present to my friends. Reading it over again was torture. Yay sucky fics... Why do I do this to myself?
> 
> Not my first fic, but my first "official" and "presentable" fic. Enjoy!(?)

  He sat on the hill, staring at the sunset. The rays reflected off his gold hair, glinting and shimmering.

  “Hey.”

  He didn’t want to acknowledge that voice, especially not then. Not when he just got back from _his_ camp, heard all _his_ stories, (myths, he thought. But then again, wasn’t his whole life one?) and had _him_ steal his home, status and honour right before he returned.

  The blue eyed hero muttered a greeting.

  “May I?”

  The other gestured at the ground.

  He shrugged. There was no point denying him. He still had a duty. A job to finish, whether he liked it or not.

  _So does he,_ a voice said in his head. _And he’s doing a better job at trying than you are._

  The two men (even if neither of them were 18, they’ve both been through too much to be called “boys”) sat, wallowing in their thoughts.

  “How do you do it?”

  Green eyes flicked toward him, startled.

  “What?”

  “How do you do it?” He repeated. “How do you earn the respect of the senate in a matter of days? How do you become a praetor so quickly when it took me years? How do you have even _Reyna_ looking to you for help?”

  The raven haired half-blood blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and tilted his head, pondering the question.

  “I used to ask myself that,” _he_ mused. “I still do.”

  “But how?” He pressed.

  “I don’t know. I’ve always had help…”

  “And how do you do that?” He interrupted, bright blue eyes blazing. “How are you so freaking modest when people practically worship you?

  Those sea green eyes (the exact colour of _his_ father’s domain, just like his own) flashed with uncertainty.

  “I never really questioned it. We don’t have ranks or places or whatever. We fight, we survive and we live. There never was anything to brag about.”

  Of course. _He_ was Greek. He had been at their camp long enough to respect their ways. But it had always been strange to him. The Greeks didn’t fight for a praetor, or their pride. They fought for what, and who, they loved.

  The blonde demigod nodded slightly.

  “How was the Camp?” _He_ asked suddenly. “When I was… Missing.”

  “You mean besides everyone being depressed and Annabeth going crazy look for you? Normal, I guess. But I wouldn’t know, would I?”

  Silence. He turned. The Greek’s eyes were dark with unspoken grief. He understood the feeling. Feeling obliged to give his counterpart some comfort, even if there wasn’t really a way too, he spoke.

  “They really missed you. It was all doom and gloom without you. Even with Leo bouncing around like a hyperactive elf.

  _He_ cracked a smile.

  “I miss them too,” he said. “It’s not the same here.”

  Another beat of silence. He turned back towards the sun. It was almost out of sight.

 “They missed you too you know. Reyna never gave up. Or Hazel.”

  He grinned bitterly. 

  “But I was still too late.”

  There was a rustling sound next to him.

  “Not true.” The Greek held out his praetorian cape. “You’re here now, and I believe this belongs to you.”

  Jason smiled gratefully, and took the cape. He stood up, looking at the last dying rays of the sun.

  “Come on. It’s almost time for muster.”

  Jason held out his hand, waiting. Percy grasped it and hauled himself up. Much was left unspoken, apologies and explanations, but at that moment, all it took was a simple gesture. A simple gesture to bond the son of Poseidon and the son of Jupiter, over a setting sun. 


End file.
